much do I owe, Adele?"

"Artichoke four, coffee four, bread one, that makes nine sous."

"There they are," said the singer and off she went humming:

"This affection Heaven has given."

"Why she is giving us the la!" exclaimed a mysterious personage half
hidden behind a rampart of old books, who was seated at the same table
with Schaunard.

"Giving it!" replied the other, "keeping it, I should say. Just
imagine!" he added, pointing to the vinegar on the plate from which
Lucia had been eating her artichoke, "pickling that falsetto of hers!"

"It is a strong acid, to be sure," added the personage who had first
spoken. "They make some at Orleans which has deservedly a great
reputation."

Schaunard carefully examined this individual, who was thus fishing for a
conversation with him. The fixed stare of his large blue eyes, which
always seemed looking for something, gave his features the character of
happy tranquility which is common among theological students. His face
had a uniform tint of old ivory, except his cheeks, which had a coat, as
it were of brickdust. His mouth seemed to have been sketched by a
student in the rudiments of drawing, whose elbow had been jogged while
he was tracing it. His lips, which pouted almost like a negro's,
disclosed teeth not unlike a stag-hound's and his double-chin reposed
itself upon a white cravat, one of whose points threatened the stars,